The room was filled with laughter, the soft hum of happy birthday playing in the background, and the scent of vanilla cake lingering in the air. Balloons danced in the corner, their bright colors a sharp contrast to the dull ache growing in my chest. It was supposed to be the happiest day—his first birthday, a milestone, a memory to cherish forever. But something wasn’t right. He hadn’t woken up from his nap. At first, I thought he was just sleeping deeply, exhausted from all the excitement. So I decided to let him sleep since he was really just a bby. But as we getting ready to head home, something wasn’t right & my daughter (2 at the time) knew it, his body too quiet, too still. My voice cracked as I called for help, Someone dialed 911. I rocked him, begged him to wake up, to open those bright little eyes and give me one more smile. The sirens came too late. I don’t remember much after that. Just the unbearable weight in my chest, the way the world blurred into an unrecognizable haze. The decorations, the cake, the gifts—they all became cruel reminders of a day that was meant to celebrate life but instead stole it away. His first birthday became his last. And I was left with nothing but memories of a little boy who should have had a lifetime of them.
#ripkam #forever1 #missmoe #myoldestboy #heartbroken